


Temptation

by Dallas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Prostitution, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 01:45:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dallas/pseuds/Dallas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whenever Narcissa thinks she’s buried something it always seems to spring back from the grave, but this surprise may catch the Ice Queen off guard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Temptation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2012 Interhouse-fest over at LiveJournal. The prompt was "I shouldn't be here" which sort of just kept going.
> 
> Lots of thanks to my friend Charley who kept pushing me to finish this piece.

It was Bellatrix who got her into it originally. That fact alone should have set off alarm bells in her head, but she was a naive teenager who had just lost one sister and was eager to keep the other close. Bellatrix said it would help loosen her up and, to an extent, it did. There was something about taking Polyjuice Potion that made it easy to slip into an entirely different character for a short time. That was what was freeing about it. The tension just seemed to disappear with her own body until she was someone new – someone wanted. And though she’d declined every offer sent to her since she’d had Draco, suddenly there was a parcel waiting on her dresser and she found she couldn’t resist it.

Her fingers slid along the edges of the parcel, tempting herself at the thought of what lay within. She’d not had need of it for so long. Draco had all her attention and for a long time Lucius had been home more often. Yet, now, it appeared as though everything was slowly descending into hell again. The Death Eaters had returned quite publicly after the attack at the World Cup and her husband had once again disappeared from her side. September had come around all too quickly and her son had left for Hogwarts with barely a glance back as she stood at the station watching him leave. What was to stop her from trying it again? It would be so easy to just slip into another person’s skin for a few hours and just have some fun.

Without another thought she opened the parcel and pulled out the small box. As always a vial of polyjuice sat snug against the velvet lining, looking decidedly vulgar, and a second vial sat beside it with a long hair encased within. She was never sure how they managed to get the hair from the unsuspecting women, but she was more than happy not knowing. Though she suspected there was some sort of backdoor deal with various salons. She reached for the envelope beneath the lid and opened it carefully with one perfectly manicured nail.

“I know you’re no longer on the books, but I thought you’d get a kick out of this one,” she read, her eyes glancing back down at the hair curiously. Was it the change she’d get a kick out of or the person she was meeting? Perhaps it was both. On the other side of the card a time and place had been scribbled hastily. As she noted the date was that evening she realised it was a good thing she hadn’t left the parcel sitting for another day or two. Quickly she opened the drawer of her armoire and pulled out a piece of parchment and her quill. “Better late than never, Essie. That’s what you always said,” she muttered to herself as she wrote down her confirmation and summoned her owl. The creature looked at her curiously as she hand over the note. It was as if even it was aware things had changed. In an instant the owl took flight and she was left standing at the window trying to decide whether she’d done the right thing.

\--

Pureblood.

That had been her only specification when Bellatrix had first taken her to see Essie in Diagon Alley all those years ago. She’d ignored her sister’s knowing smirk as the older woman double checked that gender would not be an issue. No, her only concern was that she meet only with other purebloods and to date it had not been a problem. But now, as she flooed straight to the room that was booked for this very purpose, she was worried that was what she was going to get a kick out of. Over the years she’d noticed Essie liked to toy with her, send her people with various attitudes and beliefs to see how far she could push her. Bellatrix had warned her in the beginning that would happen. The old woman still liked to have her fun and she found it interesting to see how far some women were willing to go. For one meeting she had changed into a man and that was uncomfortable enough without looking into the mirror and seeing her blood traitor cousin staring in horror back at her.

Though even she had to admit, after undressing, it was quite clear why the ladies seemed to throw themselves at him.

She shook her head, holding back a smirk at the memory. It was half an hour before the floo would open again and her date would arrive. Ergo, it was time to drink the vile concoction prepared for her. She had changed into the dress waiting for her, something far more modern than she was accustomed to but she was finding it surprisingly comfortable. Taking a deep breath, she dropped the hair into the polyjuice potion and frowned when nothing happened. Was the potion defective? If it was then what was she to do? She frantically grabbed the file left for her on the table and opened it. Normally she would wait until she changed to study her new identity but she needed some help if she was going to try anything to save her neck. Bright green handwriting appeared over the notes stating that the vial had simply been filled with sludge and Essie hoped she hadn’t actually tried to drink it. She gritted her teeth as the writing disappeared and began reading.

Narcissa Malfoy.

That was why she had been given sludge. What was the point in drinking polyjuice potion if you were the right person in the first place? This was quite possibly going to cross some line. Someone was actually paying to have sex with her. Granted people had unknowingly being paying to have sex with her for some time, but this person actually wanted her and was willing to pay for it. What if it was Lucius? She paled considerably at the thought. Perhaps the reason he didn’t enter her rooms anymore was because she wasn’t any good. No, it was clear from the few return clients she used to have that her talents were not in question. Maybe there was something she wasn’t doing and he was uncomfortable asking her to do so. Her eyes quickly scanned down the list of requirements. It certainly wasn’t Lucius. The handwriting was too – she bit her lip – rough. Though there was a small feminine flourish of scribbles down the bottom that asked to be treated gently. Either there were two for the price of one or her new client had not been alone when filling out the form.

The flames in the fireplace blazed and she turned to meet the man who had asked for her. As he stepped out of the fire, standing to his full height, and dusted himself off her breath caught in her throat. As he looked up at her, equally startled to find he wasn’t alone, only one word managed to escape her lips. “Weasley...” as the name filled the air she noticed him flinch slightly and she hoped she hadn’t sounded too, well, like herself. But then, he had wanted her hadn’t he?

“Charlie,” he corrected her, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. His raggedy ginger hair seemed to fall about all over the place as he looked around and she couldn’t help but find it somewhat appealing.

“I’m sorry,” she shook her head slightly. “Just wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“Would have thought you’d learn to expect the unexpected in this line of work,” he put forward. His eyes seemed to touch on her momentarily before flitting away each time. Too fast for her to get a good look at them, and a good indication he’d not used this service before.

“Well, I’ve been out of the business for a few years,” she told him, surprising herself as she made an effort to put him at ease. “You’ve not done this before, I take it?”

He relaxed visibly. “Paying for sex isn’t really my thing,” he admitted.

“Then why are you?” she raised an eyebrow, studying him curiously.

“My best mate decided this would be the best way to get...” he looked at her and motioned at her awkwardly. “...this out of my system.”

“A strapping young man such as yourself couldn’t find a willing girl to make you forget about...” she cut herself off, resiting saying ‘me’ for the moment.

“That’s the problem though, isn’t it? There’s plenty of fish in the sea and all that, but none of them are her,” he shook his head and moved to sit down, beginning to think the whole thing was a bad idea.

She felt her stomach twist at his words. This was a bad idea and Essie was going to pay for setting this one up. The boy was infatuated. Giving him a mock up of the real thing probably wasn’t the best idea, what if it didn’t help the feeling pass? Would they take to seeing each other on a regular basis? She couldn’t possibly pass it off onto another girl because, frankly, she didn’t like the idea of knowing there was someone out there pretending to be her during a sexual encounter. “Do you think it will help?” she asked softly, taking a few steady steps towards him. “You said your friend thought this would help, but what do you think?”

He leant forward on his knees, looking up at her. Everything about her was Narcissa and he wasn’t sure he could walk away without acting on his feelings for her. “It may not be a good plan but it is a plan and the only one I’ve got at the moment,” he told her seriously, bowing his head and looking down at his hands. “Obviously ignoring it isn’t helping at all. It’s worse now, in fact. There are pictures of her in the papers so often now, even in Romania someone at work will be reading a local rag and there she is. Our families were sharing a viewing box at the World Cup. I spent hours upon hours with her sitting behind me, I could smell her perfume and hear her voice, she was right there...”

“Charlie,” her voice was low as she closed the distance between them. Her slender fingers danced down his cheek and tipped his chin up. Dark brown eyes travelled up her body until finally meeting the bright blue ones looking down at him. “I’m right here.” She told him softly, her hand caressing his cheek.

“You’re...”

“I’m Narcissa,” she lowered her hands to take his, pulling back in an effort to get him to stand. Once he was on his feet again she moved her hands to begin unbuttoning his shirt, her head tipped up to keep eye contact with him. “You’re Charlie and I’m Narcissa. We’re here, alone, and no one could find us if they even tried. If this was your one chance would you just let it pass you by or would you make the most of it?” her words fell away she pushed his waistcoat and shirt off his shoulders, her hands running down his arms and feeling the muscle twitch beneath her fingers. Unconsciously she licked her lips. Weasleys always appeared to her to be either overweight or particularly spindly looking. She pulled his vest from his trousers, her hands sliding underneath to caress the taught skin of his stomach as she pushed it up. He took the hint and pulled it off for her, letting it drop to the ground on top of his shirt. She took the opportunity to study his chest, fingers gliding over the firm muscles as she noted the scars.

"Dragons," he said, watching her as her fingers slid along what was once a particularly nasty wound. "They can be extremely dangerous, even with the proper spells and training."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," she pulled back, smirking. "Make them weak at the knees with that tough guy act."

"It's not an act, it's a fact," he told her, his hand moving hesitantly to brush her hair from her face. "Dragons are dangerous untamed creatures. I work with dragons and on occasion get hurt."

"Don't you get scared?" She asked, her eyes still following the white lines that marred his olive skin.

"No," he replied. "It's what I signed up for. I knew the risks going in."

She fell silent. That was something she understood well. Too many people around her didn't realise what they were getting in to when the first war started. Just as she didn't understand the true risks of getting involved with Lucius. There was a time when they had loved each other. There was a time before the Dark Lord.

"Hey..." his hands were cupping her cheeks, his eyes searching hers with a hint of concern. "Where did you go?"

"Just pondering risks," she muttered.

One hand dropped to her hip suddenly, pulling her closer, as he lowered his head to capture her lips. He kissed her with a tenderness that defied his rough exterior. His lips were softer than she would have imagined and it was hard to focus on much more than that. Her small body was pressed up against his, her hands resting on his bare chest, and the sincerity in his kiss was overwhelming.

“I was under the impression you were nervous,” she breathed out heavily, her lips still brushing his as she spoke.

“I’m like a kid learning to swim,” he said quietly, pulling back slightly to look at her. “Throw me in the deep end, I’ll flounder a bit, but then I come up for air and it’s all smooth sailing.”

“That’s barbaric, is that actually how you learnt to swim?” she asked, frowning as she was jerked back to reality.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “It’s the most effective method and it was taught to me by a Black, so I truly don’t think you have a basis for argument, love.”

“Love?” she raised an eyebrow. She’d been called plenty of things in her time but that was, in fact, not one she’d heard before. Everything from ‘Ice Queen’ to ‘Darling’ had been thrown at her over the years. Somehow she’d missed ‘Love’.

“This is my dream date, isn’t it? Just go with it,” he flashed a boyish grin.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. His grin was infectious. His emotions just seemed to be written clearly across his face and it was only fair that she responded in kind. A moment later her hand snaked up behind his neck, fingers burying themselves in his ginger locks, and she pushed up onto her toes to capture his lips again. She felt his arms sliding around her waist, holding her closer. Impossibly closer. “Say it again,” the words escaped in a brief moment as she caught her breath, her lips finding his again eagerly.

He knew what she meant. There were times he needed clarification, occasionally missing the context, but he knew what she wanted. He broke from their kiss, drawing his lips along her jaw as he raised a hand to cup her head. “Love...” he breathed against her ear. He felt her shiver against him and smiled to himself. “My Love...”

“Yours,” she whispered, her hands drawing down his chest to pull at his trousers. They weren’t anything like she was used to and she pulled back. “What are these?” her fingers fumbled as she tried to work out the design. Surely they opened one way or another.

“They’re called jeans,” he pulled away from her, unbuckling his belt and pulling it free. “They’re muggle clothing, muggle made. Still sure you want to go through with this?”

“Whatever you wear is no business of mine,” her eyes still looked at the material warily. It had felt strange but not altogether unpleasant.

“You won’t mind that I went commando then...”

“Pardon?” she looked at him confused, not accustomed to the term. Then as he kicked off his boots and pushed down his jeans she looked away quickly, her cheeks burning. That was not what she had been expecting. Were the Weasleys too poor to even afford underwear?

He chuckled, pulling off his socks. “You are a wonder,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“I just wasn’t expecting... there’s usually a lot more layers before...” she dared to look at him, finding him standing only a few feet from her with his hands on his hips and an amused grin on his face. She turned around completely, covering her face with her hands as she bit back a smile. She felt him move to stand behind her, his fingers gently unlacing the back of her dress. “Charlie? What if I told you I was really Narcissa?” she asked quietly and she felt his fingers falter.

“Isn’t that the general idea?”

“Yes, but...” she turned her head to the side. “What if you had the real thing right here and now without even knowing it?”

His hands dropped to her hips as he considered what she was saying. “Why would someone like Narcissa Malfoy be doing something like this?”

“Perhaps she’s not happy with the life laid out for her,” her voice caught in her throat and she lowered her head. “Perhaps she never has been.” It hadn’t been her intention to take this path and it certainly wasn’t like her to be so open with anyone, not even her sister since they were young, but he was literally bearing everything to her. Aside from the fact he was buck naked, he was so open about his feelings and his fears to a complete stranger that it startled her. For the first time she truly felt bad about closing herself off.

For a moment he did nothing. He simply stood behind her, his hands resting on hips, staring at a freckle on her shoulder. If she was playing a game with him then he had to admit she played a good hand. But if she was telling the truth, if she really was the woman he had dreamt about since he was a teenager... he closed his eyes for a moment, letting his thoughts settle as he made his decision. “Narcissa,” he spoke her name so softly, it would have barely registered if she hadn’t been listening for it. One hand slid around to her stomach, pulling her back against him, the other moving to tilt her chin up. “Let me make you happy.”

Her eyes meet his, vulnerability sparkling like diamonds in a sea of blue, and then his lips are on hers kissing her with an intensity caught somewhere between tenderness and passion. She was certain that if he gave her the chance to breath she wouldn’t be able to. He’d brought her out of her shell on an emotional level and she had no idea what her next move was. Strategy and manipulation had always been her best traits, mentally. Her best physical traits were another tale entirely. He was offering something no one else had. Perhaps introducing her to such a profession in the first place had been her sister’s way of trying. But this was all about her, whether he believed who she really was or not.

He let go of her chin, his fingers trailing down her neck as she moaned against his lips. His hand slipped beneath her dress, gently cupping her breast.

She pulled back from the kiss, her head rolling back against his shoulder, gasping at the feel of his rough hand on her soft skin. She was not accustomed to the feel of a pureblood that suffered through hard labour. His calloused fingers seemed to dance along her skin and it felt like heaven. Most Pureblood men did little hard labour and she would, at times, find their hands to be almost as soft as hers. But she liked the roughness. It was exciting.

“How do you want to do this?” his voice sounded lower than it had moments ago, husky.

“I should be asking you that,” she breathed out, licking her lips as his hands moved to push her dress gently down her arms. She pulled out of his grasp, raising her own hands to sensually remove her dress and knickers as she moved backwards towards the bed. “Tell me, Charlie, how do you want to do this?”

He stepped with her, following her, his eyes never lingering from hers. “Slowly,” he told her, stopping mere inches from her as her legs hit the bed. “I want to savour every moment I have with you...” he closed the gap between them, his hands on her hips as his thumbs rubbed circles against her soft skin. “And I want you to remember each passing second.”

“Really?” a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, a challenge shining in her eyes. “You think you’re that good?”

Flashing a cocky grin his hands dropped lower to lift her up, his hardening length rubbing against her as her legs wrapped around his waist. “I know I’m that good, love,” he told her with an air of confidence that sent a shiver down her spine. Capturing her lips, he kissed her tenderly as he knelt on the bed, gently lowering her down. His hands moved lightly over her body, blindly exploring her velvety curves and the few fading scars. “Where did you get all these?” he asked curiously, moving down her body as he studied each mark.

She smiled to herself, finding it amusing. She wasn’t accustomed to men, or women for that matter, becoming distracted when they had her almost completely naked beneath them. But then she’d clearly never come across a man like Charlie Weasley before. “Here and there,” she mused, pushing herself up on her elbows as she watched him study a mark on her abdomen. “Take your pick, really. My Mother, my Sister, the War, this... profession.”

“People pay to hurt you?” he asked, looking up at her.

“People pay to do whatever they like with whoever they want me to be,” she told him seriously. “Sometimes their fantasy is to take a person by force, one way or another.”

“That sounds dangerous,” he said softly, his fingers gently running along the inside of her thigh.

“Mm...” she motioned around the room offhandedly as she let her eyes close and her head drop back. “The rooms aren’t hired at random, they’re owned by the Madam. She charms them so that all I have to do is say one particular word and I have two former Aurors in here taking matters into their own hands. Every task has its dangers, as you well know.”

“That they do,” he agreed, shifting between her legs as his lips brushed the path his fingers had rubbed along her thigh. As she settled back down, he ran his tongue against her. A smile played on his lips as he heard her gasp.

“What are you doing?” she asked, frowning slightly as he nipped at her inner thigh. “I’m supposed to be the one pleasuring you, Charlie.”

Pushing himself up on his elbows, he flashed a wide grin. “But you are,” he pointed out, his fingers moving to rub firmly against her as he kissed his way back up her body. “I think you’ll find I’m well pleasured...” He told her as his hardness brushed her leg.

“The cheek of you,” she scoffed, her hand moved to his head as he grazed her breasts with his light beard, fingers getting lost in the mop of scruffy ginger locks. She bit her lip as she felt his tongue swirling around her nipple with just the right amount of pressure. Between the devotion expressed through his mouth on her body and his fingers sliding against her as though he already knew her intimately, she was certain he was going to get what he wanted. There was no way she was going to forget their encounter any time soon.

He knew she was telling the truth, she’d completely forgotten the untouched polyjuice potion on the table, and that made him even more determined to take his sweet time with her, worship her. If this was going to be his one chance to spend a night with Narcissa Malfoy he was going to take it. With her fingers in his hair and her thighs gripping his waist he certainly wasn’t leaving even if he wanted to.

“Charlie...” she breathed out as his fingers teased her. She’d never been a fan of teasing, even in the bedroom, and it certainly didn’t help that she’d seen exactly what she was in for. From the moment he stripped off his trousers she’d become very aware of why the Weasleys seemed to breed like rabbits, and she could no longer blame them. “Charlie...” she pulled gently at his hair when he didn’t respond, forcing him to look up at her. Quite suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her chest. His big brown eyes looked at her with concern.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked cautiously.

“Come up here,” she said, tugging on his hair again lightly. She licked her lips as he crawled up her body, resting on his elbows as he hovered over her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s quite adorable you would think that. But I want you, Charlie. When you arrived I didn’t know what to expect beyond a good night with a strapping young man. It surprised me that you wanted me and I didn’t know how to respond to that... but here we are and you look at me just like so many others have looked at me on these occasions. The only difference is you’re actually seeing me and still the look is there. I don’t recall the last time a man looked at me like that. I want to feel all of you, be surrounded by you... I don’t want to let you go.”

He shifted slightly, his hand moving to brush her hair from her face. “If I had a say in the matter, I’d never let you go again,” he told her honestly. Leaning down he kissed her softly, his breath hitching subtly as her hand snaked down to grip him firmly. He could feel her thumb brush over his tip before she shifted beneath him and guided him in. Pushing deep into her, he settled where he was and focused solely on kissing her as he felt her muscles contracting and relaxing around him.

“So many people have said that...” she whispered against his lips.

He cupped her cheek, looking into the crystal depths of her eyes and shook his head slowly. “Funny thing about the lower class,” he told her in all seriousness. “They learn to respect and take pride in their words. I never say anything I don’t mean.”

“Why me?” she asked. “Of all people, why did you want me?”

He scoffed lightly and kissed her again, beginning a slow movement with his hips as he drew out of her and gradually thrust back in. How she couldn’t understand why someone would want her was beyond him. Distracting her from an answer was his only option besides the truth.

But she wasn’t one to be deterred. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist as he filled her and pressed her hand against his chest, pushing him up. “You don’t get out of it that easy,” she warned him, raising an eyebrow. “I want to know.”

“Right now?” he asked, thrusting deep into her. A cheeky grin spread across his face as she bit down hard on her lip and groaned.

“Yes, right now,” she told him, looking at him curiously. She clenched her muscles around him. “I’m quite certain I can hold out longer than you can.”

He sighed heavily, his fingers playing idly with her hair as he thought how best to explain his predicament. “I’ve already told you that you fascinate me,” he said quietly.

“It’s just a harmless crush then?” she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from talking. Everything about the situation was wrong and yet she was making an effort to get more from him. She’d told herself this would be a onetime thing but everything about him was screaming at her to change her mind.

“No...” he told her honestly. “If this was just a crush it would pass with time. Crushes are fleeting but this... This doesn’t waver, it grow stronger. I see a rare smile, hear your voice, find a photo of you in the paper. My feelings do nothing but grow stronger. Even if I do find some way to move on I doubt I’ll ever stop feeling this way about you.”

“You’re surprisingly eloquent,” she responded softly. Her hand was raised to gently stroke his cheek, fingers brushing through the ginger hairs of his beard. “And I don’t mean that to be, in any way, offensive but everything about you seems to surprise and arouse me. You were initially hesitant and yet your confidence is astounding. That alone is so appealing, the amount of confidence you have being with a woman you’ve wanted for so long but couldn’t touch. So tell me, Charlie. Tell me what you’re not saying.”

“I’m in love with you,” he told her almost instantly.

“Mm...” she rocked her hips up against his, her fingers trailing down his chest. “It’s been a long time since anybody told me that.”

“If I had my way you’d be told that every day...”

“You are far too tempting for your own good,” she smiled, he free hand snaking around his neck as her fingers curled in his hair and she pulled him back down to her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was seriously considering giving in to temptation.


End file.
